


Saving a Bat

by BlueRogue



Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Tantric Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-04
Updated: 2014-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-03 08:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1738673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueRogue/pseuds/BlueRogue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark enjoys the thrill of keeping a secret from Batman, short lived as it is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving a Bat

Clark could stand there for hours listening to the man talk. Apparently so could everyone else. They were lost in his words and not one person there found the presentation boring. He heard more than one lady sigh, some without noticing they were doing it. Whenever those gray blue eyes scanned the crowd, he heard one or two of deep longing sighs. More than one heart began to flutter wildly. His own included really. Bruce smiled in his direction and held his gaze a fraction of a minute too long. Enough for Clark to barely crack a smile in a shock. By the time he managed to, he found himself trying to hide behind his notes.

At least he was supposed to be taking notes.

The entire time he barely managed to scribble Bruce Wayne Housing Project on one corner. It didn’t matter, he’d get an exclusive. He always did. There was another smile directed at the crowd and he was sure Bruce Wayne had finally charmed everyone into submission.

He wanted funding for another housing project, and now he had it. Every rich socialite was currently tearing up at the idea of those poor kids, and those poor families. Those unfortunate people, all living in a one bedroom apartment because its all they could afford.

No doubt if Bruce Wayne asked them to leave all their expensive jewels behind they would.

How could they not want to please him?. The man had even bleached his teeth for that presentation. It was then Clark realized he was fixating on that smile a little too much. It didn’t matter, no one was even looking at the lowly reporter stuffed into the back of the room.

As always he was pushed all the way to the back as the crowd clamored forward. Every inch seemed to far from Gotham’s favorite child, they had to be close.

He stepped outside because it was simply far too crowded. It was then he heard that distinctive click of metal against metal. That sound couldn’t come from anywhere else, it had to be a gun. Clark looked around and found the owner on a building across the street.

He should have used more common sense, that much was true.

Instead he abandoned the empty street at a speed that could only be matched by the Flash himself, and picked up the would be assassin and his gun. Clark flew him to the bay and dropped him in before the man could even see who or what happened. He rose rapidly high above the clouds, the weapon in his hands. It was a high powered rifle and he grew angry at the thought of one of those bullets reaching Bruce. They were meant for him and it would have killed him. He knew Bruce wore light armored vest beneath his dress shirt, but it was enough to stop a knife from doing great damage. Perhaps a bullet in closer proximity. It would not stand against a high power rifle though.

His grip crushed the weapon. Clark turned and threw the rifle right into orbit. He thought then of doing the same to the assassin. The man deserved nothing less for endangering a person Clark loved so much.

“That would be bad,” he said “and he’d be quite angry.”

Then he realized Bruce didn’t have to know. No one could have possibly seen him. It could be his secret. He had saved Batman’s life without the man even knowing. Somehow, that felt quite satisfying. It didn’t happen often that he could have and keep this kind of secret, it somehow felt like a jewel in his hands.

 

* * *

 

 

“You didn’t stay,” Bruce stood by the large open windows of the room as Clark walked in. He locked the door behind, and Bruce must have heard the bolt fall into place. He didn’t turn completely, only his torso moved slightly as if he would glanced over one shoulder. There could have been a smile there, or nothing at all.

“I thought an exclusive would be best.”

“mhmm.”

Clark walked up behind him, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s waist. His shirt and vest were open, chest exposed to the cold night air. They were in the manor, and yet he sometimes wondered if Bruce would prefer to be out there, prowling Gotham instead.

Was he going through a case in his head?.

Clark pressed in behind the man, both hands wandering down that lean torso. No one else could say they got this close to the Batman. Perhaps Selina could boast, but only of the past. She had managed to hurt Bruce and he had withdrawned himself from her. It only meant Bruce was exclusively his. Sometimes Clark felt a pang of guilt at the thought. He had capitalized on Bruce’s pain.

The man would never say what exactly happened between them, but Selina left Gotham and Bruce became more guarded than usual. Some days Clark had trouble reaching him at all.

“I would say it went well,” he said breaking the silence.

Bruce replied with a grunt, which mean he had liked the silence and Clark had fucked up. It would be one of those nights he realized. The type where he’d have to decipher the meaning of a wide array of guttural sounds that made up Batman’s cryptic language.

He shoved his hands into Bruce’s pants taking a hold of his cock. Clark saw him open his mouth to say something, but all he let out was a sharp exhale. He stroked him, pressing a thumb to the slit and teasing him. Clark pressed a hand to the man’s shoulder, but that was a tell which Bruce would never miss. He had wanted to turn him around, yet that was not an option for Bruce. The bastard became tense refusing to move willingly, clearly he preferred the current position, where he didn’t have to look at Clark. _Why is that?_. He wondered in that second. Clark was hot behind him, his hard on pressed against Bruce’s ass.

_Fine._

Clark chuckled and lowered the expensive slacks and underwear. His hands caressed Bruce’s strong thighs, following long and lean muscles that tensed and relaxed under his touch. He moved around to press two fingers against the man’s rear. Bruce leaned against him more, practically inviting him in.

Whatever walls the other had put up, had began to crumble. Bruce threw an arm back to wrap around Clark’s neck. There was a moan in anticipation and precum was already coating Clark’s hand.

Some days, he actually worried when it was too easy than when it took longer. Clark ignored all the signs, all obvious hints and picked up Bruce throwing him onto the bed.

The second they were close again, he began to lose his shirt to the man’s dextrous hands. Bruce’s gray blue eyes met his and Clark saw hunger in them. As if they said ‘Fuck me as hard as you can’.

_God Bruce I want to. I want to but I can’t._

Their clothing disappeared and flew about ending up anywhere.Clark’s pants were on the floor and Bruce’s expensive shirt ended up on top of his dinner jacket on a chair.

He gathered the lube from the bedside table and spread it over his fingers. Bruce grabbed the back of his head kissing him fiercely. Clark had not expected such a thing, not that night. The man had been strangely distant, as if he needed to be convinced that sex was a good thing that night.

In a matter of minutes he had changed, becoming hungry and lustful. Bruce’s tongue fought for control and his hands roamed all over Clark’s body. They hadn’t seen each other in a long time, but they had spoken nearly every day. Both had a lot to do within the Justice League and on their own. Bruce was occupied with several cases in Gotham as well. Clark’s eyes met Bruce’s as they kissed. Deep down in those pools of gray and blue, he could see lust and anger, and a desperate need to skip foreplay.

He smiled driving two fingers into Bruce. His beloved Knight arched off the bed opening up for him. Clark went lower taking the man’s erection into his mouth. He stroked and sucked him off at the same time. He knew just how to lick the tip, and how to hook his fingers in him. Clark knew just what to do to shatter the most impossible of walls. Bruce moved beneath him, his mouth opening for a moan, panting quickly already.

Clark pulled his fingers out, throwing two strong legs over his shoulders. He wanted to see Bruce every second of that moment. He would not miss any of it, because now he knew Bruce needed him. It was easy for the great detective to forget he was human, that he had human needs and desires beneath that kevlar skin of his. Batman had no need for anything other than his Gotham, even if she abused him each and every night.

But Bruce Wayne was a man.

Clark entered him, holding the man’s hips in place. Bruce shuddered and tightened around him. His head had tilted back and one hand reached for Clark. His eyes were hooded and so hungry for more, Clark almost felt bad for drawing it out. He couldn’t help it if he loved to watch this man come apart in his arms, practically begging for more. In an attempt to be less cruel, he began to thrust then quickened his pace.

That pleased Bruce, who now held on to the sheets on the bed. Every muscle in their bodies was engaged and working hard. Clark pushed and stopped. He contained himself with every thrust, kept his strength in check. It was enough to make the man bounce on the bed, but not enough to hurt him. Bruce’s legs held on to him viciously. There was a cacophony of noises coming from both of them after a while. They forgot about Alfred, or anyone else that slept in the house that day.

Bruce pumped himself for a while, but then seemed to decide Clark’s hand was better. He stroked him and fucked him hard within the limits of reason. The bed began to thump against the wall, and he heard Bruce laugh. It wasn’t his usual wry smile but it was wicked none the less.

Bruce came, the  bed sheets ripped beneath his fingers and soon Clark came too.

In most normal nights that might be the end. They’d cuddle, have some random conversation and pass out. At least Bruce would pass out and leave Clark talking to himself. Not that night. They explored the depths of human orgasms that night, falling into a tantric sex marathon. Clark could never truly let go, but that was pretty damn spectacular. They did fast, slow, spectacularly slow. The stopped when Bruce no longer actively participated, he was exhausted but never said anything.

Clark held him as they laid on their sides. His arms wrapped around Bruce’s waist, both of them staring out the open windows. It was only then he realize they were open. The entire estate might have heard, but that didn’t really matter. Bruce’s back pressed closer against his chest.

“Do you want me to pull out?,” he whispered.

“No.”

Clark smiled and stayed as they were, holding on to each other and to the silence of the room.

“I don’t need you to save me.” Bruce whispered and Clark smiled.

“From the horrible deprivation you subject yourself to?,” he responded and kissed the back of Bruce’s neck “because I disagree.”

“No. You can save me from that any day.” Bruce chuckled and Clark almost felt a twinge from his cock.

“From the bullet of an assassin.”

Clark froze. There was no hiding from the many eyes and ears of Batman. Gotham would whisper every single dirty secret right in his ear. Clark should have known better.

“That vest wasn’t going to stop it Bruce,” he threw in but felt the battle was lost. Now he understood the subtle hints. How the man faced the window and didn’t look at him, or kissed him or welcomed him. The way Bruce refused to turn towards him. His body had been tense and eerily calm. With that man, such calmness meant a storm. Great sex might have just saved him from the full extent of Bruce’s rage.

“I’m not a damsel in distress Clark.”

Bruce had turned to watch him and Clark was blessed, there was no anger anywhere in those eyes. Not like before.

“No you are not.” he resigned himself to agree.

“I was bait, and you ruined months of work,” Bruce said turning back around his eyes closing “but I forgive you.”

Clark beamed in silence. He wasn’t sure if he won or not, and it didn’t matter.

_Note to self, fuck him like this more often_.


End file.
